Yearning for Freedom
by Zurui Taimou
Summary: O'Malley has fun with Caboose, who reacts in a way, not even the AI could've predicted.
1. Predicament

I do not own Red vs. Blue. Rooster Teeth has that. I do own this storyline.

Title: Yearning for Freedom

Rated: M

Summary: O'Malley has fun with Caboose, who reacts in a way, not even the AI could've predicted.

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He was scared. The other had already tried to kill him. Twice. The young Spartan had only narrowly evaded the murderous attempts, but it gave him no peace of mind. Ha. That was laughable. Peace of mind. No. That was the one thing O'Malley didn't want. Was Caboose to have peace of mind. If he had that, O'Malley had nothing. An older Spartan, late twenties, looked over to the youngest in the room. This same deal was getting monotonous. Staying at the golden haired private's side while he slept. Of course, Caboose would do anything for anyone else if they were in the same predicament. Leonard Church withdrew a small wash cloth from the bowl next the cot, and squeezed out the excess water. He folded it and placed it gingerly on Caboose's forehead after wiping away the sweat that had been accumulating there. He had to say he was honestly worried about him. Caboose hadn't been like this when he first got here, and he's been jumpy for the past two weeks. Church thought back to the first time Caboose began acting differently.

^*^*^*^

_Church walked down the hall with his hands in his jean pockets. He had just woken up, and in a rather good mood, too, which he thought was impossible. Caboose came out through an adjacent corridor._

_"Hey Caboose!" He waved at him. Caboose flinched and blocked his face with his arms. "DON'T HIT ME!!!" Caboose shrieked. "Caboose? I'm not going to hit you. I was just saying hi..." Caboose peeked out from behind his arms, slowly lowering them. Church peered at the the younger Blue. "Are you okay?" He reached out to touch his shoulder. Caboose jerked back and ran off down the hall, disappearing around a corner._

^*^*^*^

His thoughts wandered back to Caboose's first impression. What had made him a ghost. Looking back, it was actually hilarious, if not useful to the ...daresay_...cause._

Church streaked his fingers through his hair in thought. The short, silver hair made the impression he was older than he actually was. He used it to his advantage with unfamiliar people. Being older usually meant you've had more experience. And in war, experience was invaluable. _'Hm. The Reds have been quiet lately...'_ Church's thought of war had brought the entire Red verses Blue scenario they had down there in that god forsaken boxed canyon. Church sighed at the forced situation. Whoever was in charge didn't give a fuck about them. The entire two teams had been sent down here; practically a death sentence. There was no way out. No withdrawal. Church clenched his fist in vain. What the hell were they even doing down here? He looked onto the slim metal arm of his chair. On the plastic arm rest was a book entitled, '_A Tale of Two Cities'_. It was slung over the arm a few chapters short of the middle. The Spartan picked it up and skimmed the pages, going back to where he had read from.

_Chapter One-The Period:_

_It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness- _

Wasn't that the truth. Church thought, a smirk and a sharp exhale broke the eerie silence that infected the base. Tucker had gone to, God knows where. And the Reds had neglected their main objective to kill the other team first. Church did enjoy the quiet, though. He sighed and flipped forward to the folded corner of his present spot.

_He imitated the action of a man's being impelled forward by the butt-ends of muskets._

_"As they descend the hill like madmen running a race, he falls. They laugh and pick him up again. His face is bleeding and covered with dust-" _Church once again got lost in Charles Dicken's novel.

^*^*^*^

"Do not run Michael. It's not that bad." The AI advanced on a beautiful, young Spartan.

"No! I know what you want to do! All you want to do is hurt me!" He cried out as he strained to crawl away. O'Malley became infuriated. The image the AI fizzed out and appeared infront of the desperate boy. He slammed his heel into the back of Caboose's head with a crack and fizzled out again. This time, he appeared above Caboose, a foot on either side of the writhing form. He struck out his arm like a cat hooking a defenseless fish and latched onto his neck and slammed his head into the metal floor that was Caboose's mind. Caboose screamed out in pain as blood dripped off of his golden locks and from his forehead. O'Malley, in one swift movement, flipped Caboose over onto his back, lifted him off the ground by the Spartan;s now probably bruised neck, and slammed him into the wall of his mind. "I told you Michael. Do not run from me. All that does is get me angry, and you get hurt. I do not want to hurt you, Michael." Caboose bit his lip and tried to fight back the tears that were now dwelling just behind his eyes. O'Malley brought his face close to his prey, a smug grin occupying his face, and an abusive flame dancing in his crimson eyes and he released Caboose, letting him fall to the groundthree feet below. "But you're just too damn fun." He turned and walked away, fizzing out once more.

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End of Chapter One

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Please review. ^^ I hope that was a good start. This idea has haunted me for a good few months now,and it started getting annoying, so, I finally wrote it.


	2. Surprises

I do not own Red vs. Blue. Rooster Teeth has that. I do own this storyline.

Title: Yearning for Freedom

Rated: M

Summary: O'Malley has fun with Caboose, who reacts in a way, not even the AI could've predicted.

^*^*^*^

Tucker sprawled out on his back in front of the Blue base. He had taken a walk around the canyon absentmindedly, thinking about the given predicaments of the past week. That O'Malley character sure was something. Making even the most innocent person they knew, that all too familiar blond, act like a total ass. Tucker thought it was cute how Church was concerned about him and all but still. It was Caboose. When had anything bad ever happened to Caboose? He always bounced right back. The teal soldier removed his helmet allowing is jaw length mop of shaggy brown hair shake loose. His hair nearly matched his skin tone, the only change in color was his fluorescent aqua eyes, and the dull neutral color that surrounded them suddenly seemed so colorful. He sighed looking back up to the sky. No one had attempted to contact him so he inferred that he wasn't missed. Then again, why did he care? Church was always such a dick, and Caboose had been unstable for the past week or so. The Reds hadn't shown up. So, he wasn't missed. It did hurt to know that, even though he cared for his team who had been his only thing even close to call family or friends, they probably didn't return the feelings_. _

_Oh well_.... Tucker closed his eyes and slowly smiled, drifting off to sleep in the increasing shadow of the base as the sun set over the canyon walls.

^*^*^*^

"Donut! Get yer ass over here!" Sarge shouted to the corridor to his left.

"What?" Came the answer.

"What in Sam Hell did you do to my armour?!" The Red Sergeant's voice became enraged.

"It needed some new paint!" The pink private came prancing into view of the Sergeant.

"So you painted the unicorns and...What the hell are these? Some kinder wheel?" He stared down at the armour, helmet in front of his face, inspecting the paint, reddish eyes intense and focused.

"Unicorns and donuts!" Donut's white hair dancing playfully in front of his face, which exhibited the look of a five year old presenting an Aced test to his mother.

"Yea....erm.....Donuts- What?!?!" Sarge transferred the burning glare from the helmet to the pink soldier. Disgusted he threw the helmet to the ground with a echoing clunk, and quickly stripped down to his red boxers, allowing his bulging muscular figure to feel the warm air of the base. He was easily forty, but still had such a great body, and he still had hair. It was short, and spiky. Light gray, yet had a red shine to it; a trait Donut, nor anyone in the base had ever seen before in hair. Sarge though, just stared angrily at Donut.

"Scrub it off!" He kicked the helmet into Franklin's shins, the MJOLNIR contact clunking and resonating off the walls, reminding the two of the absence of Grif and Simmons.

^*^*^*^

O'Malley lurked in the shadows watching his prey continue, paranoid. The AI smirked evilly at his progress. He shifted from his spot of the ledge high above, to right in fron of the private.

"Hello Michael." Caboose stared, horrified into the burning yellow eyes. He fell to the round sputtering, small dribbles of blood trickling down the sides of his mouth. O'Malley laughed, and kicked him sharply in the side, chipping the armour. Caboose yelped; a sound O'Malley would never tire of. He picked Caboose off the ground by the scruff piece and gobbled up the younger's mouth, forcing a kiss. The first few times were difficult and full of struggling, but this time was the first time Caboose did nothing to resist. The AI pulled away, foreheads resting against the other, just for a second to reward the boy for cooperating.

"Good boy." Caboose hung there, feet dangling, unmoving. And O'Malley reached back, forcing his slippery tongue into Caboose's mouth, swirling it around the dead fleshy muscle of its owner. Then there was a quiver of strength in the Private's tongue. It awoke and met the intruder's soft mouth. O'Malley shuddered at the courage. And pushed back over for dominance of the situation, feeling almost threatened of such a display, from such a person. He dropped Caboose back to the ground, not breaking the kiss, and fell on top of him, biting the Private's lip through his smirk in the process. Caboose yelped into the AI's mouth, and O'Malley returned more ferociously, with teeth and claws beared. There and then, in Caboose's mind, neither of then had the MJOLNIR armour, allowing their flesh to be exposed. Caboose's shirt was soon ripped to pieces by the stronger's abormally sharp nails, and the skin underneath was sliced and actively bleeding. Bite marks covered Caboose's face and neck. And O'Malley was enjoyign every second of it. He admitted he got fired up when Caboose actually responded without resisting. He actually started to bite back. O'Malley now stood over his prey, triumphant. Caboose lay there, red with bites and blood, panting. With a smirk and a laugh, O'Malley left Caboose there.

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There's chapter two. Hope you liked it, whatever readers i currently have.


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